


down pour

by heyabooboo



Category: Ready or Not (2019)
Genre: Complete AU, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Nonverbal Communication, Not Canon Compliant, The Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known, alex is only listed because of a quick flashback, alternate universe - no pact, canon is thrown out the window at 90 mph, le bail doesn't exist in this folks, off-screen infedelity, there's a lot of things not being said but understood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-19 06:21:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22473214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heyabooboo/pseuds/heyabooboo
Summary: “You’re fucking shitting me.” Grace speaks before Daniel has a chance to. Her words aren’t harsh, but they arebluntand he sees the flicker of disapproval in the check-in lady’s eyes before she thins her mouth into a line and gives them a bored raise of her eyebrow.“It’s all I’ve got. So you can either check-in and quit dripping in my lobby, or you can go back out there and try and find another place. Good luck not being swept away in a flash flood.” Daniel would bet a large portion of his inheritance that she didn’t actually care about their well-being.OR: 2k words on a drabble prompt for the "There's Only One Bed" trope.
Relationships: Alex Le Domas/Grace Le Domas, Charity Le Domas/Daniel Le Domas, Daniel Le Domas/Grace Le Domas
Comments: 24
Kudos: 246





	down pour

**Author's Note:**

> a beautiful anon sent this in as a request and i fucking ran with it. here we are, 2k words later. jesus christ.
> 
> og req on tumblr: _Every ship needs THAT overused trope, so may I ask for "There Is Only One Bed" for our favorites Le Domas, pretty please? lmao_

“You’re fucking shitting me.” Grace speaks before Daniel has a chance to. Her words aren’t harsh, but they are _blunt_ and he sees the flicker of disapproval in the check-in lady’s eyes before she thins her mouth into a line and gives them a bored raise of her eyebrow.

“It’s all I’ve got. So you can either check-in and quit dripping in my lobby, or you can go back out there and try and find another place. Good luck not being swept away in a flash flood.” Daniel would bet a large portion of his inheritance that she didn’t actually care about their well-being.

He can see Grace’s jaw set and he reaches for his wallet, making the executive decision. He wasn’t going to be driving around in a storm, especially with no destination in mind. A quick glance to Grace as his credit card is swiped from his fingers finds a hard-to-distinguish expression on her face.

“You can have the bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

The lady behind the desk - her name tag is just as worn as the rest of the decoration in the lobby and states her name to be _Pauline_ \- slides his card back to him as the printer whirls to life behind her and proclaims: “No couch.”

Daniel shrugs, swivels back to Grace. “Chair, then. It’s only for a night.” She slides the bill across the counter for him to sign and he does so without a single blink. “Could we get some extra towels?” Pauline finally cracks a smile, a raspy laugh following.

“For Mr. and Mrs. Le Domas? Why not.”

Grace is in the shower when Pauline stops by, four extra towels piled high in her hands.

The walk to the room had been awkward, with a tense air that had never existed between them before. It leaves Daniel off-kilter, reflecting on the day.

“I caught Alex cheating so I packed my things but now he won’t let me leave.” she’d called around noon, and he’d paused at the contrast of her words and her tone. She didn’t _sound_ upset, but when he arrived, he found her locked in her car, Alex standing between the rear bumper and the garage opening, still trying to talk her out leaving. His clothes were haphazard on him, buttons through the wrong holes, like he’d put them on in a rush. He hadn't even buttoned his pants. _Yikes_.

She was practically vibrating with anger when she rolled the window down for him, her grip causing her knuckles to whiten on the steering wheel. “If you’re going to t-try and _defend him_ ,” she started, huffing like she’s about to spit fire but he interrupted her.

“Hey, no, if you say he cheated, I believe you.” she finally turned to look at him, then. He was about to ask how she was doing, when she huffed out a sigh and in the next blink, her eyes did a complete 180 from fire and fury and vengeance to soul-crushing sadness. Tears leaked from them, and her grip loosened. His own tightened on the door where the window was rolled down completely.

“Get me out of here, Daniel.” she pleaded quietly and he had to swallow, take a moment to compose himself. There’s nothing he wouldn’t give her, not when she asked.

He ended up convincing Alex to go inside - only after Grace turned the car off - and get himself together, that Daniel would take care of it. And then once Alex was back inside and the door closed, Daniel pulled her and her bag to his suv and left.

Alex had tried to call once they made it off the private driveway, first Daniel’s phone, which was immediately silenced and then turned off completely, with Grace’s next. They stopped for gas at dinner time, neither of them feeling very hungry.

“I’m not going back to him.” She said in the quiet of the cab, before he had a chance to turn over the engine.

“I won’t make you.” He watched her chin quiver and when she turned to wipe the new tears off her cheeks, he started the car and got them back on the road.

He knocks on the bathroom door, the towels balanced on one hand like a waiter balances a tray and dips his head to talk into the door jamb.

“She brought more towels.” He doesn’t expect her to respond back — she’d been mostly quiet the whole day.

“Door’s not locked. You can come in.” comes the soft rumble of her words over the rush of the water. It’s instinct for his eyes to seek her out, but the curtain is closed tight against the walls of the shower-tub combo. Her dirty clothes are in a heap on the floor, and his eyes just won’t stay away from the damn curtain, seeking it out in the reflection of the mirror, even as he turns to put the towels on the vanity.

He feels responsible, somehow, for the situation. Latent big brother duty, left over from childhood, maybe.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes on a sigh, sitting on the toilet lid. Even though he has the heater running in the other room, the air’s warmer in here from the humidity of the water. She must have it turned up pretty hot.

It’s a while until she responds, a sniffle preceding, “Me, too.” He can tell from there, that she’s sitting in the tub, and his heart aches a little bit more.

They sit in silence, just the sound of the water between them until she finally stirs, turning it off. There’s not much difference with the water off, with the sound of the storm outside. He pushes up from the toilet and silently leaves, letting the door click loudly behind him.

When she finally emerges, it’s with a towel twirled atop her head and another one tied tightly across her chest. She snags her bag and retreats back into the bathroom. Daniel stays on his spot on the chair, watching a rerun of friends on low. The plot’s stupid, but distracting, and it’s some of the very early ones, so it’s especially neutral territory. None of that ‘on a break’ bullshit.

He doesn’t think Grace would be able to handle hearing that.

A little while later, he hears the hairdryer behind the closed bathroom door and he wonders just how good the insulation is, in a place like this. Are they disturbing their neighbors? Not that it matters, he thinks as he tiredly blinks at the commercial playing. He’d tell ‘em all to go fuck themselves.

When Grace emerges, she looks less space-y, but definitely more tired. Make-up’s long gone, and she’s no longer wearing her ring. Daniel swallows at the hope that immediately blooms at seeing her naked finger. He has to remind himself that it means nothing for him - _for them_ \- for her to have it off.

He doesn’t ever remember seeing her hair in a bun like it is now, messy and sloppily piled high. He’s also never seen her in her pajamas, but they’re cute, with little cows jumping over crescent moons. She comes to rest against the other side of the bed, next to the lamp that’s on, and blinks at him across the space. His fingers twitch where his hand is resting on his leg, wanting to reach out to her, to provide comfort. To fix this, so she’s no longer hurting.

But that’s not his responsibility.

“You don’t have extra clothes.” he’s still wearing his suit from work, though the tie and jacket have long been discarded. Silently, he shakes his head, unsure of what _to_ say. She blinks and her eyes look like they come further into focus. “You left work as soon as I called. You came and got me. We didn’t- _you_ didn’t—didn’t even hesitate.” she’s just stating facts.

He feels filleted open, and his breaths are measured, heaved through his nose. In out, in out. Raised heart rate, but not jack-hammering. This is her seeing him, and he tries not to hide away from finally being perceived; of being known.

He’s not scared anymore.

Grace sucks in a breath through her nose that causes tremors to dance through her shoulders. There’s a shadow of a smile on her lips and finally she blinks, her shoulders drooping.

“Daniel?” she asks, even though they’re still looking at each other. He hasn’t looked away once, feeling brave for the first time in his life in baring himself to her. He nods, throat clicking when he tries to swallow.

“Yeah, Grace?”

She pulls back the blankets on the queen-sized bed. “Don’t sleep in the chair.” it’s not exactly an order, not exactly an invitation, but he understands the implication for what it is. She turns off the lamp and he strips in the light from the television, all the way down to his boxers and his plain tee undershirt.

The heater finally shuts off.

He settles on his side of the bed, sighing as his body comes to rest, but notices a fine tremor coming from Grace. She’s curled on her side towards him, arm under her pillow, supporting her neck as she watches the show.

“You cold?” his voice is barely above a whisper.

“Can’t seem to get warm,” is her shivered response and he immediately scoots closer, his hand fitting over the shoulder that's hidden under the sheet. She doesn’t feel cold, but he understands that this chill may not be physical.

“Mmkay, that’s alright. Come here, we’ll get you warmed up.” he barely has time to move his arm before she’s immediately crowding closer, her arms curled against her chest, toes pressed to his calf. Okay, so her toes are definitely cold. It makes him give a little grin into her hair. “You wanna talk about it or you wanna watch tv or you wanna sleep?”

She sighs noisily, but doesn’t answer for long moments, her face tucked against his shoulder. He feels her eyelashes as she blinks against his neck. “If I asked you to, would you say it?” Oh, they’re still on that subject.

He swallows. Would he? “Yes.” without hesitation, he realizes. His stomach clenches in anxiety. She’s his brother’s wife - his _sister-in-law_ \- this is so far past inappropriate.

She tilts her head until she’s looking up at him, impossibly close but still so far away. “If I asked you, and you said it,” she pauses, her eyes dipping to his mouth before they come back to his eyes. “I’d say it back.”

All at once, his chest feels too wide, too bright, too fragile and too warm. He’s sure she can read it in his eyes as his lips separate to suck a lungful in, softly hiccuping. It’s more than he could’ve — and what he allowed himself — to hope for.

But before he can even fathom putting words together in order to speak them, she’s asking a new question. “If I asked you to, would you fuck me?”

It’s a different lane, a different gear altogether, but he follows as best as he can, answering: “No.”

She doesn’t look hurt, watching his face as she gently vibrates in his arms. His hand starts rubbing circles on her back, tracing down before making the trek back up the ladder of her spine. He doesn’t know what she sees on his face. Does she see the unspoken words of: _it would always be so much more than that_ ?

“If I asked you to, would you leave her?” her fingers find his jaw, playing with the beard there. He needs a shave. He just hasn’t cared lately. Now, though… now he might. If she wanted him to. If she asked.

He moves his own hand up from her back to thumb back the flyaways at her hairline as he wraps her more securely in his arms, trying to squeeze the tremors from her. “You wouldn’t have to. It’s final in a couple of months.” Her eyes are so impossibly blue that he drowns in them every time she lets him. He wants to for the rest of his life.

“And then?” she breathes out and the shivers get stronger, and the storm rages outside while soft laughter echoes from the tv. It feels as if they’re suspended in time like this and Daniel’s torn: wanting to stay in this bubble or wanting to speed up time, get it all over with and be over it already.

“And then… whatever we decide.”


End file.
